Seasons
by yourholiness
Summary: A series of short pieces, all no longer than 200 words, ten for every season. Mello/Matt
1. Winter

**Snow**

Mello wasn't one for playing in the snow, but Matt assured him that he would like this. Mello scowled at all the laughing children, wondering what on earth made Matt believe that he would enjoy something so _juvenile_. "Really, Matt," he grumbled. "I thought you knew me better than this."

Matt didn't reply. In fact, Matt wasn't by Mello's side anymore. His annoyance grew, culminating when he felt a wad of snow slam into his exposed ear.

Thirty minutes later, Mello knelt behind his fort, packing a ball between his mitten-clad palms. Perhaps Matt knew him better than he'd thought.

**Frostbite**

"I'm going to get frostbite, Mello," Matt whined. Mello ignored him. "Couldn't you have waited to pick it up until tomorrow?" Mello didn't answer. "It's almost midnight and you have a ton of guns at home already." Mello didn't even look at Matt, he just kept walking. "All right, I get it. You care more about your new piece than you do about me." Mello neither confirmed nor denied. "Mello, I can feel my fingers turning blue." Mello didn't say a word as he grabbed the fingers in question and stuck them in his warm mouth. Matt smiled smugly.

**Fever**

Mello could barely look at Matt, lying weak on the bed, without feeling his guts twinge painfully. He couldn't see him this way: eyes closed, grimacing in discomfort, a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead – especially since he knew it was his fault. His fault for not buying more nutritious food, for making Matt sleep on the floor last night, for forcing him to work through the early hours of the morning. It was too much.

And besides, how was Matt supposed to get any work done when he couldn't even sit up?

**Fire**

Mello and Matt had both been out of school for a while now, especially Mello. But they were glad that they were still the age of most kids who would be attending high school in the United States, because they had managed to sit down by the bonfire without being questioned by anyone. They got as close as they dared to fight away the cold, leaning against each other for that extra bit of warmth that the fire, a fire that wasn't really meant for them, couldn't provide.

**Valentine's Day**

Mello smiled softly – his sweet smile, his secret smile, the smile he used only when no one would see it, not even himself – when he found the box of chocolates on his bed.

**Sneeze**

Mello'd been yelling at Matt about something or another for almost twenty minutes now. Matt couldn't even remember what he'd done wrong, and he had long since given up trying to pay attention to what Mello was saying. He found it much more entertaining to watch the way the scarred side of his face stayed the same color even as the other side was tinged pink with annoyance, or how he never seemed to lose the scowl despite the fact that he was practically screaming.

Matt was so busy watching Mello that he didn't even notice the feeling of pressure increasing in his sinuses. By the time he realized that he had to sneeze, it was too late. In an instant the noise interrupted Mello mid-word, stunning him into silence. Matt always had been a loud sneezer. He was almost afraid that Mello would be even angrier now, but just when he thought he was about to start screaming again, Mello began to laugh. It seemed that once he started, he would never be able to stop. And it was such a rare sound, that laughter, that Matt decided he would have to sneeze more often.

**Death**

Matt looked out the window from the bedroom he'd been sharing with Mello for the past few perfect months. Here in Japan, it didn't exactly look like the winters he was used to, but as of three minutes ago it was January 26th. It was winter at home.

Everything was dead in the winter. Not dying, but dead. And soon, Matt knew, despite the constant reassurances from Mello, he would be dead, too. And he was okay with that. He only hoped that Mello survived it, so that he could go home to see the snow one last time.

**Desperate Housewives**

"They kinda remind me of us."

"The housewives? You, maybe. You do have the same color hair as uh…that one."

"Her name is Bree. And I meant Andrew and Justin."

"Matt, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"It's just that they're a lot like us… Okay, you're Andrew and I'm Justin –"

"I'm hotter than that guy."

"Yes, you are, but that's not the point."

"There's a point to this?"

"Yes! They don't have a very…_conventional_ relationship, but –"

"Matt, we don't have a relationship."

"That's what Andrew's always saying, too, at least at first. And they're pretty violent. They like to play video games. Andrew thinks he's so badass, but Justin can see what's really going on with him."

"Matt, where is this going?"

"And…even though Justin is more willing to show how he feels, you can tell that Andrew loves him back…"

"…I don't even know why you like this stupid show, Matt. Now, shut up – your chin is hurting my shoulder."

**Warmth**

Mello shivered, silently cursing the furnace for breaking on what must've been the coldest day of the year. It was still light and yet here he was in bed, forced to forfeit a day of work because it was simply too cold to get anything done. Shaking, he growled quietly to himself and scooted closer to the body beside him, nuzzling into the warmth that emanated from Matt as if his hair really were the fire that it so resembled.

**Christmas**

Matt sat next to the House tree, his fingers tapping wildly on the Game Boy in his hands. Actually, the tree was so huge that he was practically sitting beneath it. Every once in a while he would move slightly and feel one of the branches tap him on the head or the shoulder and he would turn around, having forgotten that it was just the tree. He could have moved, but he liked sitting close to it.

Matt felt the tapping on his shoulder once again. He turned before he could remind himself that it was just the tree, but then he saw that it wasn't the tree. It was Mello. Mello, standing there with his hands behind his back and a faint blush on his cheeks. Without saying anything, he took his hands out from behind his back and thrust a small box at Matt. His blush grew deeper and he hurried away, leaving Matt to stare after him wide-eyed. Matt looked down at the box and felt his own cheeks growing warm. And it didn't even matter, he decided, what was inside of it – only that it had come from Mello.

* * *

Well, there you have it: my first foray into writing Mello/Matt. I hope you enjoyed these and I sincerely hope that there will be more soon. If you're wondering why I'm doing this, I think it's just a fun way for me to flesh out my versions of the characters, and this has been an idea that's been on my mind lately. Thank you!


	2. Spring

**Flowers**

Matt grinned nervously as Mello stared down at the small bouquet of flowers that Matt had just handed him. They were mostly daisies and some pink things that Matt didn't know the name of. He'd been walking around outside and they had reminded him of the color of Mello's cheeks when he got mad, so he decided to pick some and give them to his best (and only) friend. Of course, he'd known it was dangerous, which was why he was so nervous now. He'd never given Mello a gift before.

It seemed that Mello couldn't speak, or at the very least, he wouldn't. Eventually he just turned and walked away. For the next twelve hours, Matt was horrified that he'd driven Mello away, that he would never talk to him again. But the next day everything returned to normal and Mello seemed to pretend that nothing had happened, which was fine with Matt. But he noticed that night that Mello had stolen a little vase from the kitchen, and in it, right beside Mello's bed, were the flowers that Matt had picked for him.

**Easter**

"This is such a stupid fucking holiday," Mello grumbled as he ducked down to look under a chair. Something on his head hit the seat of the chair, prompting him to angrily reach up and rip off the bunny ears. "Why does Roger make us do this? It's degrading."

Matt couldn't help but laugh a little. _You know you love it, Mello_, he thought. _This is one of the few things you always do better than Near_. "He does it just because he likes to watch you crawl around on the floor, Mello," he said.

Mello gave him a punch to the arm, so hard that Matt squinted and almost missed the glimmer of triumph in Mello's eyes when his small hand closed around the plastic egg that was hidden under the chair.

**Melting Snow**

Mello sat in his leather clothes on his leather couch, licking dark chocolate off of his leather gloves. He wondered briefly how he'd ended up here, surrounded by thugs who were all more than twice his size, sitting in a large den that belonged to one of the most influential mafia rings in L.A. Not so many years ago he'd been surrounded by children who were all his own size, sitting in a small playroom that belonged to one of the most influential orphanages in Europe. Really, not much had changed. He'd been in a place for lost souls then, and he was in a place for lost souls now.

He thought of home – the place he still sometimes considered home anyway, even though he hadn't been there in years. The snow would be melting there now, giving the whole world a glittering appearance. An image came to him suddenly, of an old friend playing in that melting snow, the light bouncing off of his pale skin and making him glow and shine. Here the only thing that shined was the metal of his revolver. He thought of the past no more.

**Daylight Savings**

Matt would never forget the look of absolute panic on Mello's face when he reminded him that it was daylight savings time. "Remember?" he'd said casually, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Fall back, spring ahead?" The look of terror didn't leave Mello's face.

Finally, with a great deal of effort, Mello choked out, "You mean we're going to lose a whole _hour_?" Matt nodded slowly, knowing that Mello was thinking about Near, about Kira, about falling that much farther behind. He sighed sadly as he got to work setting all of the clocks one hour later, thinking that he would stop time for Mello, if only he could.

**Baseball**

"This sport is fucking stupid," Mello complained. "It's just a bunch of guys hitting a ball with a stick and running around in circles. I don't understand why so many people watch it here. This whole country is fucking stupid. They listen to bad music, watch bad TV, read bad books, and watch bad sports. Matt, will you change the fucking channel? Oh, Jesus, it's everywhere! America's fucking favorite pastime, my ass. I knew they were stupid, but if they like this game that much, they're even stupider than I thought. Why don't they recognize it for what it is? It's just an excuse to wear tight pants and act gay."

"You do that all the time," Matt piped in, terribly amused by Mello's rant.

"Yeah," Mello replied angrily, finally turning off the TV. "But I don't need an excuse."

**Green**

Green: the color of the leaves that were slowly growing in on the trees, of the grass that could now be seen in remote areas of the city, of the mold growing in the back corner of the apartment's kitchen, of the playful eyes that shown out from behind orange lenses.

Green: the color of the monster gnawing on Mello's insides whenever he saw Matt lavishing attention upon his new car.

**Wedding**

Matt saw the red light just in time and stopped his bike (well, he called it his bike, but Mello almost never let him drive it – this was a very rare occurrence, sitting here with Mello holding onto his waist, rather than the other way around). Upon looking around, he noticed that they were stopped across the street from a wedding. The happy bride and groom were walking out of the church to a chorus of cheers and laughter. For a split second Matt wondered what it must be like to get married, since he knew he would never know the feeling. Then the light turned green and Matt smiled a huge, happy smile because he had his bike and the wind in his hair, and he had Mello behind him, tightening his grip just slightly, and really, Matt didn't need anymore than that.

**New Life**

There were buds on the trees the day that Mello left. Tiny animals were scurrying around outside, searching for their mommies and daddies (a difficult task in the expansive countryside). Wedding bells were ringing somewhere off in the distance. Babies were being born all around the world. Matt watched him go and tried to think about what it might be like – his new life without Mello.

There were buds on the trees the day that Mello called. Dust and ash swirled through the air, searching for plant life to land on and suffocate (a difficult task in downtown L.A.). Wedding bells were ringing somewhere close by. Babies were being born in hospitals and zooming taxicabs. Matt helped him to the car and tried to think about what it might be like – his new life with Mello.

**Garden**

Mello knelt over his garden, the only life he cared about just as much as, if not more than, his own. Beautiful red and green filled this garden, a special flower that thrived when kept out of the sun. Mello moaned in appreciation. Using his fingers to open the hole, he happily planted his seed.

**Rain**

Mello had always liked the rain. Though no conscious part of him would admit it, he felt a sense of cleansing when it rained. He didn't think much about it, but whenever he heard the tiny tapping sound that the rain created, he would go to sit outside for a while, as long as he wasn't too busy.

Matt liked the rain, too. Whenever Mello went out, he would follow cheerfully, as he always did. And while Mello felt his worries and his sins wash away, Matt would watch the drops of water as they rolled off of Mello's leather clothes and maneuvered their way through the labyrinth of tissue that made up the left side of Mello's face.

Together they would sit: Mello forgetting about himself, and Matt remembering.

* * *

Hello! I hope you're enjoying these. I know I am. I have to say, I'm really quite proud of some of these and they are quite a lot of fun to write. I'm sorry if I offended any Americans with "Baseball" – I'm American, too, so please don't take it too hard. And I hope you understood "Garden." I really tried. XD

Comments and reviews are lovely, but believe me, I understand not wanting to write them. So if you're reading but not writing, thank you anyway!


	3. Summer

**Vacation**

Mello sighed, looking out the open window at the other kids who were all playing outside. That is, all except for him and Matt – and Near was probably wandering around somewhere or another, but Mello didn't particularly care to know where.

It was the first day of July, and therefore, the first day of the two-week vacation that the orphans were allowed. Unlike the rest of the kids in the world, the geniuses here supposedly didn't _need_ to have that much time off. But for once, Mello decided to enjoy the time he was given, rather than complain about it.

With the window open, a book in his hands, and Matt leaning comfortably against Mello's knees, he was content.

**Beach**

Matt couldn't remember the last time he'd been to a beach. In fact, he couldn't remember if he'd ever been to a beach, but if he had, it certainly hadn't been within the past five years or so. And it was no wonder why. As soon as he stepped onto the L.A. sand and looked out at the ocean, he turned around and went back to his car. The color of the Pacific Ocean was too familiar, as was the color of the sun on the sand. But the worst part was the tide, and how the temperamental sea drew in close, only to pull away again in the end.

**Fireworks**

It was the fourth of July, which seemed to mean something here in L.A. Oh, Mello knew it was a holiday for Americans, he just didn't understand why most people seemed to cite the date rather than the actual name for the holiday. In any case, he and Matt had been hearing about it all day and had managed to pick up on the fact that there would be a fireworks display that would, conveniently enough, be viewable from the little balcony off the side of their apartment.

Mello had cursed the person who'd told them this because, of course, Matt would want to watch (he was like an excitable puppy in that way) and Mello really couldn't get much work done without Matt's help with the computer (it wasn't his area, okay?). That was why, come sundown, he was sitting outside waiting for the alleged fireworks.

Eventually, though, Mello got bored. Tired of waiting, he decided to amuse himself with the only thing close enough to use: Matt. By the time the fireworks started, they were too busy celebrating everything _but_ independence to notice.

**Bike**

When Mello was a kid, he used to like to ride his bike around the orphanage, with Matt clinging on behind him. It was a motorcycle now but, well…some things never change.

**Picnic**

Mello didn't know whose idea it had been to take all of the kids in the orphanage for a picnic. Certainly it wasn't Roger's. There was no way Roger wanted to do this anymore than Near did – and that was saying something, for surely Near was having a positively miserable time sitting by himself without his toys, trying to find a tree to sit under in order to escape the sun. Mello chuckled cheerfully, lying down on the blanket that he was sharing with Matt.

Matt, who was lying on his stomach, fingers tapping away at the buttons on his DS, allowed himself a private, victorious smile. He'd thought that Mello might like to see Near outside of his comfort zone for a while, and it always made the blonde happy to think of Roger sputtering indignantly. And really, it hadn't been too difficult to hack into the system and forge an email from L suggesting that Roger take all of the kids out for a little fun in the sun – and, of course, that Near should leave the toys behind.

**Thunderstorm**

It wasn't that Mello was _afraid_ of thunderstorms. He wasn't. He was nineteen years old, for Christ's sake. He owned a motorcycle, had a gun on him at all times, held a prominent position in a mafia ring in one of the biggest cities in the United States, and he walked around downtown with his pretty blonde hair and tight leather clothes – Mello wasn't afraid of anything. Mello wasn't afraid of shit.

So it wasn't that he was afraid of thunderstorms. He just didn't like them. Because around here, no one shuffled into his room late at night; around here, no one crawled quietly into his bed and wrapped their arm around his waist; around here the only redhead was Lonny, the Irish hit man that the don sometimes hired for special jobs; around here, no one used thunderstorms as an excuse to get_ that_ _much_ closer, to be _that much_ more aware of another person's scent or the way they breathed when they slept.

Mello just didn't like them – that was all.

**Shade**

The first thing that came to mind the first time Matt saw Mello after all those years was a memory from their days together at the orphanage. They'd been sitting together under a tree in the front yard (probably plotting something but Matt couldn't really remember) and the light was filtering through the tree in such a way that it cast one side of Mello's face into shadow.

He looked the same now, only this time it was permanent. This time a little gust of wind couldn't wipe away the darkness in his face. And, Matt thought as he wrapped an arm around his old friend, maybe that was okay. Maybe this was how Mello should always have looked, because now his outside appearance truly mirrored what Mello _was_. And Matt had never seen him look more beautiful.

**Camping**

Matt was excited. He'd never been camping before. Neither had Mello, of course, but he – unlike Matt, who was bouncing and chattering excitedly – failed to see how this even counted as camping. He fought the urge to tell Matt to shut up and act his age (because he was acting his age, technically – Mello sometimes forgot how young he and Matt really were), as he rolled out two sleeping bags on the floor of their apartment's living room. Matt gave him a chaste kiss to show his appreciation that Mello had gone along with his idea, and Mello rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Sometimes it was almost worth acting foolish, just to see Matt happy.

**Sweat**

Near entered the playroom with the intention of doing a puzzle, but then he saw that Matt and Mello were already in there. Matt was letting Mello win at some video game. Normally, Near would just have taken a puzzle and gone back to his room, but something about the image before him made him stay.

It was hot, and the air conditioner was broken, so both boys were sweating quite profusely, but neither of them seemed to care. Their hair was sticking to their foreheads and surely they must have smelled terrible. Yet they were sitting not two inches apart from each other. Something hit Near suddenly, a belief that he had always found ridiculous and naïve – that Mello and Matt were made for each other. He felt foolish thinking it, and yet, no one but Matt could distract Mello from Near's presence, and Matt would certainly never allow anyone but Mello beat him at video games. Eventually, Near turned and left the room, hoping that maybe someday he would meet someone who would let him win, and distract him from the unhappy things in his life, and sit next to him even when he was drenched in sweat.

**Heat**

Mello _hated_ the heat. He always had. The heat melted everything that Mello loved. When he was six, he'd left his favorite crayons on the windowsill at the House in June – they were the last things he had left from his old life. When he'd gone to retrieve them the next day, they were melted together and useless.

The heat melted Mello's chocolate, causing clearly-defined squares to dissolve into little more than one big sticky puddle. The heat melted the computer system when he had to leave it on for an especially long job. The heat melted half of his fucking face.

But there was one thing that the heat did that Mello didn't mind so much. The heat melted Matt. On a hot day, Mello barely had to touch Matt and he was begging, squirming, willing to do anything Mello asked. It was during those moments that Mello thought maybe the heat wasn't _so_ bad, that maybe it was okay if those few things he truly cared about were melted in the warmth.

* * *

Hello again! I hope you liked these. Near certainly made quite a few appearances this time around. I didn't plan that, it just sort of happened. Umm...oh, the holiday in "Fireworks," for those of you who don't know, is Independence Day. And I hope you understood "Beach." At first, my point was more obvious, but then I thought that it was too obvious, so I changed it a bit. I like it better this way, but I'm not sure if people will get it. Anyway, thank you very much Purplewolfstar35, Cammie-kuu, Jari-chan, OtherWeasleyTwins, Demon Hiei's Girl, and deikitty for commenting! It's very much appreciated. And yay! Only one more! I'm excited because fall is my favorite season. :)


	4. Autumn

**Halloween**

Matt just laughed and shook his head. He didn't know what he'd been expecting. It wasn't as if Mello looked any different than usual, it was just that today it was funny. Because with his tight leather clothes, mysterious facial scar, and the scowl that was firmly planted on his lips, Mello didn't even need a costume to look scary as hell.

**Leaves**

It had started out as a plot against Near, but they'd never quite gotten to that stage. Mello's idea had been to gather a huge pile of leaves from behind the orphanage, and then Matt (because Near didn't trust Mello enough to follow him without documented proof of where he was going) would lure Near to their trap. "Then what are we going to do?" Matt had asked, taking the opportunity to allow Mello to feel that much more intelligent.

"We bury him, of course," Mello replied proudly, basking in his brilliance. But they'd never buried Near in the leaves. In fact, Matt had never even left the pile to go fetch the boy. Once they'd seen the massive mound, Mello had decided that this was way too much fun to waste on Near. And as they bounced and bounded through the leaves, Matt couldn't agree more.

**Hot Chocolate**

When Mello was five, he had his first taste of hot chocolate. At the time, he couldn't think of anything more perfect. It was chocolate _and_ it was hot. What could be better than that?

When he was ten, he had his first friend with whom he could share the wonders of his precious warm treat. Could it really get any better?

When he was fifteen, Mello was drinking it alone again, but more than ever, it offered a respite from the cold. What more could he ask for?

When he turned twenty, Mello swore he would never drink hot chocolate again, because really, it had never been the drink itself that had been important.

**Colors**

After he left the orphanage, Mello avoided going outside during the fall whenever possible. The colors of the changing leaves reminded him far too much of what he'd left behind. But once he had his past back again, or at least the part that mattered, he didn't mind so much. In fact, he would often stare in utter amazement, wishing he had the leaves in front of him as a basis for comparison, before he could shake himself out of the trance.

**Pumpkins**

Matt didn't know why he was even _bothering_. It wasn't like Mello would let him do anything with it, it wasn't like Mello cared, it wasn't like Mello would even _notice_. And yet, here he stood, staring down at the rows and rows of pumpkins, trying to find the perfect one for…well, he didn't exactly know what for. It wasn't as if it would ever be used for a greater purpose than to sit on the kitchen counter until it began to rot and Mello tossed it out the window.

Still, he wouldn't leave until he'd found the perfect pumpkin for just that, because Matt knew Mello better than anyone and even _he_ didn't know everything about him. So maybe Mello would appreciate the fact that Matt had thought so hard about this, even if he would never voice that appreciation. Matt didn't know, but he knew it was worth a try.

**Dying**

It was a fact that had been observed time and time again – by soldiers fighting in battle, by fed-up citizens willing to give rebellion (however futile) one last try, by the brazen orange and red leaves that adorned the trees before finally falling to the ground – but Matt didn't truly understand it until he'd felt it himself. He understood the concept, but never the feeling – not until those last few days. Those last few days when hardly anything could pull them apart, when those few precious hours were filled with chocolate and sweat and _Mello_.

Matt understood now, and it was an undeniable fact: only those who know they are dying are free to be truly alive.

**Crisp**

The air was crisp in the fall, cutting at the exposed skin of anyone who dared to step outside. The leaves were crisp, too, crunching when stepped on and scraping across the pavement in true fingernail fashion when the wind blew.

Mello was as crisp as ever. He spoke rarely, and when he did, it was usually in short, terse sentences that were clearly an attempt to keep himself from yelling at Matt for one inaccuracy or another.

Trying hard to reign in his temper, he would raise his current chocolate bar to his lips, the foil around it making tiny crisp crunching noises, and close his teeth around it. The snap was loud, clear, resonant.

And then Matt would laugh at how his mind had wandered, and Mello would look up at him and say "_What_?" so Matt would laugh harder. He would laugh at how much time he'd wasted on foolish thoughts, and at how annoyed Mello was getting, but mostly he would laugh at the fact that Mello really wasn't very "crisp" at all.

**Thanksgiving**

As soon as Mello stepped into the tiny apartment kitchen, he stopped in his tracks. The room was filled with the aroma of…he had no idea what, but it smelled good. More alarming than that, though, was the extensive assortment of food spread over the table. There was a bowl of what appeared to be some sort of bread stuffing, another of lumpy purple-ish stuff, and another of corn. At the center of the table was an _entire_ turkey.

The last thing that Mello noticed was Matt. He was stirring something by the stove, and he was wearing an apron. Before Mello even had the chance to ask, his brain was piecing things together. Yes, today was an American holiday, wasn't it? He'd heard of it before, of course. Supposedly, turkey was a common sight at such an event.

Finally, Mello managed to express his thoughts. "Matt, what the hell is all of this? We're not even American."

Matt turned and flashed him one of his specialty "I'm so brilliant" grins. "I just wanted to honor what I'm thankful for." Mello's confusion must have shown on his face because Matt just laughed and clarified: "You."

**Pumpkin Pie**

Matt was proud. He could cook okay, when he wanted to, but he'd never been very good at baking. Luckily, as far as pies went, pumpkin truly was easy. Therefore, when he pulled it out of the oven triumphantly, it looked rather nice, if he did say so himself. He called to Mello so he could see Matt's masterpiece.

Mello took one look at it and said, "There's no chocolate in that," before walking away.

**Jacket**

With the days growing colder, Matt began to wear his fuzzy over-sized vest to keep warm while he was out tailing people and spying on that stupid girl whose name he didn't care to remember. Mello wore his large-collared leather coat on the rare occasions that he went outside. With their jackets wrapped tight around them, the days were less cold.

With the nights growing colder, Matt and Mello moved closer together while they slept for the few hours that Mello allowed. Wrapped tightly around each other, the nights were less cold.

* * *

Hello! And good-bye, at least for a little while, because this is the last installment of "Seasons." I have to say, I'm not as happy with how this ones turned out, but hey, you win some, you lose some. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this - it's been a ton of fun to write. I'm sure I will be writing more Death Note fic eventually, maybe soon.

Thank you very much Cammie-kuu, Demon Hiei's Girl, deikitty, orangetintedvision, Purplewolfstar35, Asimosan, and .rapist (GOD???!!!?!?!) for commenting! I really love reading about what you guys think.

Thanks again to everyone who's been reading. Until next time.


End file.
